


but there is light and there is dark, then there is us

by ohbutmydarling



Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Awesome Pepper Potts, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Depressed Peter Parker, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Endgame Fix-It, Fix-It, Fix-It of Sorts, Flashbacks, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, Loss of Parent(s), Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, POV Tony Stark, Parent Tony Stark, Pepper Potts Is a Good Bro, Peter Parker Has Anxiety, Peter Parker Has Issues, Peter Parker Has Nightmares, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker has PTSD, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Precious Peter Parker, Sad Peter Parker, Sick Peter Parker, Tags May Change, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Daddy Issues, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Has Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Tony Stark Has Self-Esteem Issues, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark-centric, alternates between flashbacks and present, but tony's alive so i'm calling it a fix it, i mean its still sad as hell, longer chapters are coming, not tony i promise, other than that....yikes, the first chapter is only a prologue
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-29 15:21:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19022611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohbutmydarling/pseuds/ohbutmydarling
Summary: Displayed on the holoscreen before him, Steve Rogers smiled in a sad, knowing type of way.“Loaded question, Tony,” Steve said. “What country should I start in?”“Sorry, are you Captain China now?”Steve’s lips twitched at the corners. The smile looked marginally less sad. “About as well as you’d expect. Better, in some places. Arizona settled on adding a plus five to the birth years of all the Resurrected. You know – alcohol sales and all that.”“Wow, really? You mean a sixteen year old kid who died and reappeared five years later might want a drink or two? Who woulda thunk?”Steve cocked his head, eyebrows furrowed curiously, and Tony realized too late that he’d opened a floodgate when the word sixteen passed his lips.“You tell me,” Steve said. “You’re the one in possession of a sixteen year old.”~[In which Tony survived the final snap, all is not well in the life and times of one Peter Parker, and family does not end in blood.]





	but there is light and there is dark, then there is us

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i wanted to write a simple endgame fix-it, but my mind is apparently incapable of writing fix-its that don't include some other form of non-canonical angst, death, and despair. thus, this fic was born. 
> 
> this first chapter is only the prologue; six more chapters are on the way, and they're much longer. if you're intrigued, please subscribe to the story to be notified when new chapters are posted!
> 
> enjoy!

If a mother cardinal chirping outside the kitchen window as she gathered moss to fortify her nest was all Tony focused on, he might have tricked himself into believing it was a beautiful day.

He knew better.

“How, uh – how are the recovery efforts coming along?” Two fingers trembled as they rubbed his temple. A mug of black coffee sat on the table, untouched and growing cold.

Displayed on the holoscreen before him, Steve Rogers smiled in a sad, knowing type of way.

“Loaded question, Tony,” Steve said. “What country should I start in?”

“Sorry, are you Captain China now?”

Steve’s lips twitched at the corners. The smile looked marginally less sad. “About as well as you’d expect. Better, in some places. Arizona settled on adding a plus five to the birth years of all the Resurrected. You know – alcohol sales and all that.”

“Wow, really? You mean a sixteen year old kid who died and reappeared five years later might want a drink or two? Who woulda thunk?”

Steve cocked his head, eyebrows furrowed curiously, and Tony realized too late that he’d opened a floodgate when the word _sixteen_ passed his lips.

“You tell me,” Steve said. “You’re the one in possession of a sixteen year old.”

“Almost seventeen,” Tony said automatically, then winced, gaze falling to his lap and the five metal fingers curled there. Something about the way Steve claimed he was _in possession of_ the kid bothered him. He bit his tongue to the point of tasting copper. “His birthday’s next month. So...yeah. Almost seventeen now.”

Almost twenty-two, if one wanted to get technical about it and refer back to that _August 10, 2002_ printed on Parker’s birth certificate – but, hey, who was counting? Not Arizona.

“Right.” Steve conceded with a nod. “Almost seventeen.”

“Yeah. So. Recovery efforts? New York. How’s the Compound coming along?”

“Tony.”

“I started on some new blueprints while I was holed up in that S.H.I.E.LD. death joint-”

“You mean the hospital?”

“Yeah, the death joint, that’s what I just said. Anyway – the nurses were real bitchy about it, but I managed to draw up the bare bones, and I’ve been fleshing it out here at home, so-”

“Tony. Come on, let’s just-”

“Fax it to you? Excellent. Give me the number and I’ll send it right-”

“ _Tony._ ”

Again: it was something in the tone. Something deep and profoundly worried.

Profoundly exhausted. The longer he looked and listened, the more weary Cap seemed, chiseled down to the bone. He wasn’t the only one.

Tony flitted his eyes back to the screen, a smirk as false as a smirk could be plastered on his face. “That’s my name. Don’t wear it out, Capsicle.”

“You look terrible,” Steve said, blunt and entirely unpersuaded. “You’re supposed to be recovering, not working. When’s the last time you slept?”

“Assuming you mean for more than four hours, and excluding medically induced comas?” Tony grit his teeth. “Gotta be honest there, pal – you were still in the deep freezer.”

And here Tony had been all this time, thinking _his_ Disappointed Dad look was killer. He had nothing on Rogers.

“That’s...bad.”

“Yes, Einstein, thank you for your medical expertise. I’m enlightened. Real talk. I mean that sincerely.”

“All I’m saying is-”

“Are we done here?” Tony poised a flesh finger over the ‘end call’ button, prepared to answer that question himself. “’Cause if all you’re gonna do is keep me out of the loop and criticize my sleeping habits, there’s a four year old’s teddy bear tea party waiting for me upstairs and, honestly, it sounds more appealing.”

There actually wasn’t – Morgan wouldn’t be awake for at least another two hours, per her hereditary night owl nature – but it made for a valid enough excuse. Steve’s resolve faltered.

“How are they?” Cap asked. “Your girls, I mean. I know Morgan’s probably too young to make sense of any of this, but Pepper...”

He trailed off, letting the thought hang unfinished, but Tony heard the unspoken loud and clear.

 _Pepper watched you almost die – almost_ did _watch you die. Pepper was terrified. Pepper has to be traumatized. Pepper must fear losing you again, at any given moment, and the worst part is, it’s always plausible. Poor, poor Pepper._

_Just can’t stop letting your family down, can you?_

Anger seared through Tony’s veins, stopping short in his right shoulder where hot blood met tepid metal. He was doing a fan-fucking-tastic job beating himself over the head with that information on a bi-hourly basis, no reminders needed, thank you very much.

“Fine,” Tony said gruffly. “They’re both...fine.”

_Are they, though?_

Steve pursed his lips tight. He gazed through the screen just as intently as he would have had he been there in person. Tony had come to know that look well. Well enough that he knew exactly what to expect the next time Steve opened his mouth.

“And Peter?”

Though he did expect it, it somehow still managed to steal his breath away. Those two words felt like a square punch to the gut. Perhaps that was why the flinch elicited by them was so violent.

How was _Peter?_

The answer to that one was, to put things mildly, a hell of a lot more complicated.


End file.
